Tout vous appartient
by FreckledGiraffe
Summary: After a long period of no love-making, Francis surprises Antonio. Smutty oneshot. Review, please?


_Ayooo guys_

_I've been busy on tumblr at the moment and I kinda put the RusAme smut that is still proceeding into a corner as I've had a lot of things to do so_

_chyeah_

_this is a oneshot_

_Pairing: France x Spain _

_Type: Smut_

_Setting: House_

_Length: Oneshot_

_leave me a review, kay?_

Antonio sat lazily watching some Spanish drama on the television, as he drunk a sip of the smoothie he had just made. He had been listening to what was happening in the drama and making confused and enraged comments to the screen for a while now, even though he knew they could not hear him. On his lips a permanent pout remained. The clock ticked by as he was waiting for a signal, just a soft knock on the door of the living room to signal that 'Cena' would be ready. His stomach was rumbling in anticipation of what Francis would cook, he could already smell an enticing aroma from where he was sat. An idle hand ran through his dark brown hair, and relaxed upon the comfort of the crimson love-seat the Frenchman had just put in the room, beads of sweat dripping down his toned abdomen and reaching the waist of his shorts from the heat of the room.

He'd gone out today to play beach volleyball with two villagers he was good friends with, came back cheerful and tired with a jolly grin on his face, jogging back inside and finding a note scrawled in Francis' hand, telling him to kindly wait for dinner and to especially look forward to dessert. He had grinned thinking of what exactly may Francis had meant with dessert, and that the Frenchman had only said to look forward to it, meant that he would do so, eagerly. Antonio had learnt to look forward to surprises with Francis, from the sentimental values of the array of flowers he sometimes was given, to the shared bubble baths The knock on the door drowned his thoughts out and he brushed himself down slowly, treading over to the kitchen and closing the door behind him as he got there.

A blonde-haired figure resided in the corner of the room, pale sunlight through the curtains illuminating around him, as the figure stirred a pot containing food of some sort. Antonio gazed at the man, a longing gaze- before he seized his opportunity to be unbeknownst to the golden angel before him, and moved behind the Frenchman, encircling hands around his waist and bringing him close as he heard a heady gasp from the body he was wrapped around.

'Tonio~' he breathed, the Spaniard leaving soft kisses down his neck as he turned his head towards the one tickling his neck. 'Si?' a deep voice questioned, hands working in their secret ways and pulling up the french-mans' blouse as they traced his abdomen. It took every ounce of will the french-man had built up to attempt to unattach the Spaniard as he replied 'Plates are on the table, mon amour~'. This gesture took a different approach, as the brunette twirled the blonde to face him, taking Francis' hands in his own standing centremetres from his face, before he kissed the pale nose of the other, a blush seeping out onto Francis' cheeks as he savoured that moment, his Cherie walking backwards to give him a secretive smile, nearly bashing into the table before he was at once sat.

Antonio, pleased with the reaction from his love, stretched back, looking out onto the table and notifying the fact that the rose had been changed to a white one instead of the usual velvet red. The new fragrance of the rose, aswell as the candle filled the air with a soft and heady scent. The sun was setting through the double doors leading out onto the veranda, the mellow colours of yellow and orange dissolving into the night, the darkness approaching in which promises and pleasures were sated.

There was a scrape of a chair, green eyes raising toward the sound to meet two blue ones, unwaveringly. 'Vin?' he asked, lifting a bottle in front of the glass placed before him. He nodded solemnly in reply, allowing his lover to take his glass and fill it, watching how the curled golden strands fell to reveal a smooth part of the Frenchman's shoulder.

Antonio's sexual appetite had grown the past week, as Francis had come home late most of the week and insisted on them to sleep in different rooms, which had made him curious-er and curious-er as to what exactly the Frenchman had been planning for the past week.

Nevertheless he had kept all of his yearning desires for the active bedtimes they usually had quite often, in the back of his mind, well, apart from in the shower. Those bathroom sessions were the only way he could cope without his lover, in which he would fantasize of the Frenchman dominating him, moaning over him and beneath him, carry on until he could almost see the utmost pleasure written across the blondes' face as he cried out with release. When the Frenchman did not come back on time, he sat to himself and used the Calvados he had stored in his room for quiet comfort as he watched a European film.

Those nights, however entertaining- had something missing, something like the arm that would go around Antonio's waist, the golden head that reclined upon the comfort of his shoulder, the soft chuckle that that wonderful voice made occasionally as he relaxed in Antonio's presence And, as Antonio ate, his eyes silently studied the Frenchman's body language, just for a glimpse of something being hidden, a clue as to what Francis hadn't told him to be happening for dessert. Alas, during that meal, he sensed nothing, and thus annoyingly accepted defeat. He would have loved to know what was coming, yet when it did, it would be a very pleasant surprise.

~.~

It was only when Antonio had brought his plate up to the sink, leaning in to kiss Francis' pale cheek that he noticed the glimmer of a smirk at his peachy lips. A rising form of hope jabbered in the pit of Antonios' stomach and a soft hand gripped his lapel as a face turned up to his. 'Sit down in the lounge, mon amour and wait for moi, Oui?' He nodded, replying 'Si' as he sauntered through to the hallway, opening the door as he sat down, the Moulin Rouge posters around him, as crimson as ever, and the small fire burning flickeringly in the corner.

The clatter of pans being washed reminded him of the surprise coming his way anytime soon and a soft inching smile crept up his lips. Often this week he had seen strange things around the house, like blunt shavers, makeup stains and other things he could not quite have accounted for. But as the two were so close, neither himself nor Francis ever wasted time arguing about strange occurrences they'd learnt through the few years they had been together to deal with them.

It was not very peculiar, however when the 'surprise' entered the room. Listening to the clicking of approaching footsteps had made the spaniard want to momenterally snap his head back, yet he sat composed while the figure neared his line of vision. And when it did, a pleasant smile was brought to Antonios' lips.

The golden haired french-man had made himself out to look breathtakingly female. His lips were coloured with red, cheeks a soft hue of pink and there was slight mascara around the eyelashes of the frenchmans' soft blue eyes. The golden silk of hair normally stringing about Francis' shoulders was brought up in a ponytail, and an incredibly fluffy pair of bunny ears sat atop his head. A choker with a black bow stood around the sleek neck of his and down from the thin frame was a black leotard bust that emphasised those jutty hips of his, smooth legs covered by black stockings, and feet clad with sharp heels.

The Spaniard lent backward, his self control only just kicking in and forced himself not to immediately launch himself at the other, his gaze travelling back up the french mans' body, and he could already feel the effects of this sight making him very uncomfortable in his regions. He was stunned at this very cleverly planned surprise but moreover he was glad that the now kindly smiling blonde individual, whose eyes he now met searingly, was at only his pleasureful mercy.

'Tu aime que tu regarde?' a sly voice detached from those rose red lips, as he blushed slightly at the fact that he had been trailing his gaze over Francis for quite a while. 'Si' he answered playfully as a thin hand helped him stand up at the answer, smile steadily growing.

He was almost too close to the french-man to breath properly, his mind filled of the familiar scent of rose emanating from the other, the sound of their breathing mixing together as his tanned hands escaped from their place at his sides, and brought the frenchman to him, hands securing themselves around Francis' delicate waist and lips ghosting around the pale ear of the Frenchmans', as he summoned up courage to do an imitation of what Francis usually asked him before, when they had made love.

'Voulez-vous couchez avec moi, ce soir?' his voice sounded rough and raspy from not having used it, but it seemed that the phrase had done the trick, when a pale hand turned his rapidly blushing face to meet the others, lips craning to almost close the distance as the other replied 'Si, Antonio'. After that, neither him nor Francis could get their hands off each other, lips meeting only for a brief kiss- turned to french kissing passionately, as two pale legs attached around the tanned ones' back, pale hands attaching into thick tendrils of dark brunette hair as the two grinded at one another for dear life.

Low moans and cries were filling the silence of the house as they clumsily managed to get upstairs, though not without bashing into a fair few walls and tables, the Spaniards hands travelling everywhere upon the others body, etching the beautiful image of the scarcely clad french-mans outfit into his mind, as he used a foot to open their room, rushed to the foot of the bed, launching them both onto it. Hands expertedly pulled at clothes, and eventually a disorganized array of clothes were spread around the floor.

The best part of the surprise, in Antonios' opinion, was the lingerie underneath the corset. Red lace bra, panties and red stockings was what greeted the Spaniard when he had managed to get the corset down, and what made him mischievously grin as he began to kiss and bite from Francis' neck, hands teasingly taking the bra straps down as he began to hear the french-mans breathing hitch. It was when the brunette got to the only thing stopping him from getting to the french-mans nipples did he unfasten the contraption, allowing the blonde to take it off himself as he teased the blondes' nipples with his tongue, the body arching towards his touch as he left both of them red and puckered.

His lips next trailed down Francis' abdomen, hands tracing the panes of the blondes' back until he reached the laced panties that concealed a growing erection. He licked through the fabric and felt the Frenchman thrust into his touch. Francis had a particularly growing fetish for Antonio taking his length into those pretty lips of his, taking it all the way down his throat, and they both knew it. This was why Antonio chose to only mouth Francis' growing length through the fabric, loving the little whines that were erupting from the blonde's mouth, the hands that were dragging through his brown locks and willing him closer to him.

'Beg mi ángel' Antonio whispered, looking up at his lover with lust-darkened eyes. The others' breath hitched, a trace of a smile forming at the corners of his lips as he caught the brunette's gaze and then, in such a lust ridden voice breathed 'Suce-moi, mon amour'.

At the words, Antonio took the top of the red lace panties and dragged them down with his teeth, eyeing the french-mans considerable length. He turned his head sideways to lick up one part of francis' cock, repeating the measure all around it and then teasing the tip as little huffs from the blonde filled his ears. He kissed the top of the blonde's member and the sides of it, hearing the huffs become slightly impatient as he gave in and positioned his mouth and tongue around the top of the french-mans' cock, imagining how he would suck upon an ice-cream and repeating those measures on his lovers' length.

It was quite soon that Francis' lustful huffs turned into soft moans and he used his hands to part his lovers' thighs as the blondes' hips went of their own accord beginning to press him closer. How he was slowly driving the french-man crazy only with a suck at the top of his cock meant that Francis was responding to him desperately, and it was when Antonio's lips began to come down to meet the base of the french-mans cock did a pleasantly surprise gasp fell from his lovers lips. He left himself there, letting his mouth get used to the Frenchmans' cock before he dragged his tongue and lips back up, and then down again.

Within minutes the french-man was a thrusting, writhing mess below him, hands tightening in his hair and moans desperately escaping the others lips. One of Antonio's pockets hid a small bottle of lube, and he stopped sucking, just when the blonde was nearing his pleasure point, to ram three fingers into the french-mans hole, as he resumed his position sucking and licking around the blondes' cock and eagerly prepared his lover for himself.

There were some sounds of surprise, then pain until Francis had got used to it, and it was only then did the blonde lean down and join Antonio for a heated kiss, a satisfied one and then groaned out 'Baise-moi' as the brunette smirked and released their lips reluctantly, hurryingly taking down his pants and showing off the proud erection that Francis lent down to kiss before making a twisting motion with his hands and allowing the french-man to stick his perfectly shaped butt up in the air as he took position and entered.

Within moments the two were making love simultaneously, Antonio's moaning louder than Francis' as he thrust into the blonde again and again. One of his hands began to stimulate Francis' cock, as the bed creaked beneath them wearily and the result was that the blonde's head drew back as he moaned out even more sluttishly as Antonio tried to find the frenchmans' sweet spot. It took several attempts but when Antonio succeeded, the frenchmans' moans became higher, beautiful sounds that Antonio delighted in making.

The frenchman was tight, needy and overwhelmingly exquisite underneath him and while he enjoyed entering his lover again and again, he felt the need to release build in his loins and make his thrusting quicker. When they did release, their cries were loud, the only words tumbling out of their mouths each others' names, and they collapsed in harmony, the Spaniard taking himself out of the french-man as they smiled at each other, tucking one another into the bed-sheet and enjoying the glowing haze around them while it lasted. 'Muy bella' the Spaniard spoke out as he traced the french-mans cheek with the back of his hand. Again the pale hand kept his tanned one on the pale cheek of his lovers as the frenchman softly spoke the most meaningful words that Antonio felt in his rapidly beating heart,'Ma beauté, mon tout vous appartient, Antonio'


End file.
